Polifiction: My Nipples Obsession By Nnaemeka Oruh

By Ikenga Chronicles August 6, 2016

Polifiction: My Nipples Obsession By Nnaemeka Oruh

It is difficult for me to lay my hand on exactly when this obsession began. Psychologists in their all-knowing nature will try to drag it way back to when I was probably a kid, and got stuck at a certain level of development. Then they will give it a name: blah blah complex, and wrap it up with “it’s a fixation”.

But that will be a lie. I was not fixated at any point, during my childhood.

When I try to rewind my fading memories, it gets stuck at a point; that time at the State House party when I saw a grey haired President suckling on the nipples of a 15-year old albino! Well, some will call her a fair girl, but for me, anything not remotely resembling Bayelsa-black is albinism.

From that moment when I saw that grey haired fool desecrating a child’s nipple, I became obsessed with nipples and those who suck them. They all deserved some form of punishment, I concluded.

Because of the need to punish nipples desecrators, I ran for the office of the president of my nipples endangered country thrice and failed. I was really obsessed with getting into that office and rooting out those fools. I remember the third time I failed vividly:

I was in my sitting room, sipping on Fanta while waiting for the results when my albino wife walked in;

“Honey, you have to be strong.” she said, coming over to my seat, and placing her right arm affectionately on my shoulders.

I flung her arm away like it was some red-hot coal.

“What happened?” I asked, my eyes blazing fire.

“Lagos votes are in darling”, she said quietly. Almost as if she was scared that her words will do me physical harm.

“So?” I asked, anxiety engulfing me.

“You lost the elections” she muttered, her diffident eyes on the floor, while with her right toe, she was trying to draw circles.

The tears rolled down my cheeks. I could feel my heart attempting to exit my fragile frame.

Then the sobbing began. Deep heavy sobs that had my angular shoulders going up and down like the crescendo of waves.

I sobbed quietly and bitterly, and in-between sobs, lamented the people’s short-sightedness and rejection of a messiah. Why have they refused to let me tackle the nipple problems of the country?

When I calmed down, I went on national television and swore never to try again. I was going to let them be destroyed by those desecrators.

 

*       *          *

I completely gave up on the country and went about my businesses. Until one day, the owl-eyed nipple sucker from the West visited me. I detested him as he was famed as a chronic nipple sucker and alcoholic whose teeth have been browned by gworo and Benson & Hedges.

Yet that day, he had come with great news. He was going to make me President.

I saw my nipple suckers cleansing opportunity again, and jumped at it, forgetting my earlier announcement to never run again. What man does not eat his words once in a while if there is something to be gained?

Anyway, my owl-eyed friend did his abracadabra and I became president(that one na story for another day), and suddenly my nipples obsession quadrupled.

Within a few months, I was throwing into jail many nipple suckers.

But a greater problem had come. I began to realise that my obsession was not only with the suckers, but with the nipples themselves;

They were of different sizes and shapes. During executive meetings and on the road, my eyes will seek to examine each female, to see the type she has. Often, I will be disappointed when some women will come out, their nipples firmly tucked into bras. I had preferred those who were revolutionary enough to leave them free. I loved the feeling of nipples pressing on thin fabrics. It allowed me evaluate those nipples and imagine them in my mouth. There were the big rounded ones that looked like radio knobs. Then those tiny ones that look a bit crooked. I began to love them, and appreciate them for their differences and promises. I hated those who had breasts with hidden nipples– those were the real enemies of the nation’s progress I determined.

Then Yemi Okonkwo, recently aware of my new proclivity introduced me to sucking them. Some tasted like strawberry, others like the fiery taste of agbalumo when you first bite off its head. Then there were quite a few that had salty-milky tastes. Lovely things, those nipples.

I began to wonder why I was against people suckling on them before!

*      *   *

It was during my third year in office that I realised that nipples are a big part of our country. Then I sent a bill to the Senate to change our country’s motto to “With Nipples, We Build”.

 

  • Oruh tweets with @oruhnc
  • Photo Credit: Shapemindsoul.com
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